


In a Place Like This

by omphale23



Category: due South
Genre: Challenge fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-14
Updated: 2010-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-08 00:04:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omphale23/pseuds/omphale23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He isn't what Fraser needs. Fraser needs space, solitude, clean air and stretches of open land and someone who'll be there for him when he comes home at night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a Place Like This

**Author's Note:**

> New fic for [](http://community.livejournal.com/ds_shakespeare/profile)[**ds_shakespeare**](http://community.livejournal.com/ds_shakespeare/), late but finished.
> 
> Thanks to [](http://slidellra.livejournal.com/profile)[**slidellra**](http://slidellra.livejournal.com/) for smacking this into shape. She, as always, rocks.

**Despising,  
For you, the city, thus I turn my back:  
There is a world elsewhere.  
_Coriolanus_, IV. i. **

***

He isn't what Fraser needs. Fraser needs space, solitude, clean air and stretches of open land and someone who'll be there for him when he comes home at night.

Stella needed space, too, but it was space away from Ray. She needed time, and space, and first it was just the space between the bedroom and the couch but eventually it was the space of an entire continent, the distance from Chicago to Florida. The stretch of different cities, different time zones, different names, different lives.

Ray hadn't thought anything could be worse than knowing that Stella had only ever wanted him, never needed him, until she didn't even want him anymore.

And now Ray's just what Fraser thinks he wants, and there are days when that's almost enough. It's what he tells himself, the first time Fraser kisses him, drops to his knees and reaches for Ray's dick. That Fraser's an adult, and he knows what he wants, and if what he wants is Ray then he's going to have to be the one to call this off.

Ray's not stupid, and he knows when he's gotten a gift. This is a gift, it's more than he deserves, and he's going to hang on to it, having Chicago and Fraser and all of it, for as long as he can. For as long as Fraser lets him, still thinks he wants Ray, wants this.

***

Eventually it doesn't work anymore. Fraser's walking home with his jaw clenched, Ray's spending more nights conked out in an empty cell at the station, even Dief is wandering around like someone stole his last fucking doughnut.

Ray's the first one to admit it, though, and he's not sure Fraser will ever forgive him for that. For refusing to keep pretending, for stopping in the middle of a Tuesday night dinner up the street from their apartment and setting his shoulders and saying the words out loud. For breaking down and giving up.

"We can't do this. We can't. This isn't good."

Fraser's out the door so fast it's like he was never even there. Which, maybe he wasn't. It's hard to tell. Was Stella ever really there with him, even before she pulled away?

***

He's in the park, of course he's in the park, whenever things turn to shit Fraser heads for the fucking woods like some sort of…some wounded animal or something. A fucking caribou with a broken leg, although that doesn't really work because three-legged caribou don't do all that much running. Fraser, though, he can run like nobody's business, run away from whatever he's afraid of and end up in a whole different country. It's really starting to be a pain in the ass.

Still, Ray's gotten better at stalking since he and Stella split. Takes him no time at all to figure it out.

Ray doesn't say anything. Thinks about the perfectly good chairs in the restaurant, the coffee and the air conditioning. He throws another branch on the coals and drops himself just out of reach.

Fraser doesn't look up. Flinches a little, and Ray decides he's got a chance. It's when Fraser starts looking _through_ you that you're screwed, that he isn't hearing a word you're saying. Looking away, that's just avoidance. Fraser building himself space to think, somewhere safe. He's doing that thing, with the hunkering down and the hiding his feelings.

Ray can work with that. He can fix this, help Fraser figure it out. He's good with the wounded.

"You want to let me finish my sentence? Or am I already gone?"

Fraser nods, then shakes his head. Finally settles for shrugging his shoulders and poking at the fire. Ray takes it as a good sign.

"Ask for a transfer."

Fraser shakes his head, eyes closed. He still won't look at Ray.

"Why not? Why are you still here?" Ray's baffled, he really is, because he's been thinking about this a lot and he can't come up with a single reason, anything at all that would outweigh the life that he knows Fraser needs. It's dirty and sticky and Chicago's got nothing to beat the stuff he saw on their Quest, all that clarity and space and room to take a deep breath. Ray misses it sometimes, so there's no way that Fraser's walking around without the taste of cold in his mouth and the glint of sunlight in the edges of everything he sees.

Fraser looks up, then, and—Ray's even more of an idiot than he thought he was, because it's all there. Fraser's not seeing pavement and glass and the grit that drifts in their window when the express grinds by.

All he sees is Ray, and that's what he thinks he's trading for. Ray's not what he wants, Ray's what he thinks he needs. Ray's the other option, and he's better than Canada.

Ray's not sure if that's the best thing he's ever seen, or the worst.

They stare at each other, long moments, both sure that something terrible is about to happen. Ray's not sure what Fraser's nightmare is at first but then it's right there on the surface.

He's waiting for Ray to break his heart.

Ray opens his mouth a couple of times, but nothing comes out. He's not even sure where to start, because that's so stupid, picking _him_ over…all that other stuff, good stuff, and if he'd known that was what Fraser was doing he'd have tried harder. Picked his socks up once in a while, pulled the covers up on the bed. Done whatever he could, because there isn't a doubt in his mind that this wasn't a fair trade. That Fraser was getting screwed, and just because he was too stupid to see it doesn't mean it was good for him.

Ray's sitting here in ratty jeans and a torn shirt and he's expected to compete with an entire fucking country and that's just not fair. That's not the sort of thing you can spring on someone without a bit of warning.

It's not fair, and Ray stands up to walk away. He's coming back, he thinks, but he needs time to figure out what he can give up. Fraser drops his head again, and Ray leans in, grabs him by the chin, and makes him look. He puts everything he's got into it, stares at Fraser and _wills_ him to think about this, to understand what the stakes are. Fraser's eyes widen a little, and he nods. Bites his lip, and Ray knows that Canada wins in the end, but he's still going to need a few days to admit it.

***

Anybody who says that the Yukon isn't always cold is lying. They got here in September, and now it's March, and it has been freezing the entire time.

Fraser keeps promising summer, but if it's not here within a decade or so, Ray's moving home. No one can be expected to give up his car and his apartment and his job and his entire life, in exchange for long nights and blizzards and blowjobs and kissing in the barn while they feed the dogs.

Fine. Two decades. Maybe three.


End file.
